You're at home, with your families or whomever takes their place. It's a rather cold, late Fall morning, the few sun rays that managed to get past the clouds are now entering your rooms through the windows.
Drehm shivers as a cold rush of wind runs over his bare back. He makes an attempt at pulling the ratty blanket over his exposed body, but it's a fool's errand. He had long outgrown the blanket and once he was awake it was hard to fall back asleep, no matter how long the night before was.
The young half-orc rises from bed, exposing his upper-half to the rays of sun that cut through the grimy windows and exposed bits of wall and roof. The skin is a light-gray, and mostly bare. The latter Drehm hopes to change soon once he's saved up the money to add more tattoos to complement the swirling, tribalistic ones that decorate the sides of his face. He idly scratches these markings as he yawns, a bad habit that has left his cheeks riddled with pock-marked scabs.
"Oi! I hear ya creakin' up there. You want I to start on breakfast!?" a sharp voice calls from downstairs. The sound of it makes Drehm flinch. It reminds him of the argument he and it's owner had last night at work. It had started like every other disagreement. Drehm catching Mr. Iggins doing something he thought he shouldn't be doing. But for some reason tempers flared hotter than usual. Drehm had shouted louder than he intended, nearly barreled the halfling down as he stepped up to him and bared his tusks.
Drehm recalls it all with a twisting feeling in his stomach. He idly plays with the tusks as he thinks on his benefactors face. Pale. Sweating. Wide-eyed. It was the first time Mr. Iggins had ever looked at him like that.
A sudden pounding on the ground--on the attic door--causes Drehm to jolt and then let out a muffled curse as he cuts a finger on one of his tusks.
"I hope ya don't be expectin' me to be doin' all the cooking on my lonesome. Get yer gray butt downstairs an' help me with these eggs!"
A light chuckle was soon followed by soft steps heading back down the ladder. Drehm sat there, sucking on his bleeding thumb, for only a moment as anxiety fought against hunger. Eventually the latter won out as Drehm sat up from bed, threw on a crumpled shirt, and headed for the door with a "Comin', Mr. Iggins!"
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"Welcome to the Family Vargidan
The Estate of the Family Vargidan
Where all the people have mystic blood rising AND
I'm part of the Family Vargidaan..." Lupina was improving, Krokod noticed as she sang. Alas for his half sister, it wasn't enough as her older sister, Montia threw a pillow at her to shut her up.
Poor Lupina, he thought, she thought bard craft would be an easy short cut to magic.
Krokod walked through a swarm of dancing lights, and saw Stepho, who was technically a cousin, but so much older than him that Krokod like many of his generation, called him an Uncle.
The man was painting, bright saffron stripes in lightning like jags on the wall. It would get cleaned up later, so no worries.
"Hey, Uncle Stepho," Krokod greeted him meaning to move on, but then his uncle caught his arm with his free hand.
"Did you ever wonder, Krokod, why the color orange is SO angry?" the middle aged man asked, eyes wide as if this was an alarming notion to ponder.
"I thought red was angry?" He admitted.
"That's what THEY want you to think, Krokod," He gave a warning nod, then let Krokod go "that's what they want you to think"
Krokod nodded as if absorbing this precious news, and slipped on by. There was food to be had. He nearly tripped over Mutt... would that invisibility spell on the dog EVER wear off? Mutt gave a yip of surprise, and Krokod called out "Sorry,Mutt." And felt a tail thump against his leg as Mutt started wagging. He patted down where he thought the dog was and moved on.
Getting food in this place was, at times, an epic quest!
Finally, he got to the table where at least four more of his half siblings and cousins were slurping at the soup. Olga shot him a superior look "Did you burn anyone today?" Olga wasn't that much older than him, but man did she act like she was everyone's disapproving mother.
"No, but the day is still young" He grinned at her. In truth, he wasn't as callous as he probably sounded, but it had been two years since his gift surfaced. He was tired of folks in the village treating him nervously like he might explode. he sure didn't have to put up with it from Olga.
Tamas snickered from his soup. Krokod liked the ten year old. They didn't share a mother, but that was true of a lot of folks around here. So Krokod appointed himself Tamas' official 'bad role model'. Maybe the kid would have fun yet.
"He's not funny, Tamas," Olga said crossing her arms.
"At times, he can be," a deep voice spoke. They all turned immediately. It was Maltus, the Patriarch himself, father of Krokod and so many others. His hair, long turned white, dropped to his knees. His feet were bare under his robe as he stared at those at the table as if measuring them.
"Father" Krokod said along with other voices. Even in a shared Estate with many, somehow no one could find Maltus if he didn't want to be found. And sometimes he would wander the halls when all his family was a sleep, and mutter to himself, then work his real magics that none of them could hope to match. At least that was the story.
The Patriarch smiled, "Sons and Daughters of House Vargidan, I greet you. Grow in power, time tests us all."
Maltus didn't explain what he meant by that. Then, he never did. Rather, he motioned to a bowl of soup and it followed him to his study.
Krokod looked over at his mother, who had blown her husband a kiss. Other wives gave a farewell of their own. Then his mother said "Have you been studying your Ignan, my son?"
"A little" he said speaking ignan. It translated more to 'a flicker' but he could see his mother's approval.
He ate his soup hurriedly, capitalizing on her approval and said, "Okay if I practice it and my magic OUTdoors?"
"After you eat, and help clean after," She told him.
krokod winced. As a rule he was no fan of hard work. If only he could learn that prestidigitation cantrip, he could just snap his fingers and be done. But alas, that Cantrip just wasn't in his blood.
Life was unfair like that.
Nintos wakes up early and grabs an apple as he heads out the door. Once outside, Nintos finds the worn down patch of grass where practices his forms each morning. Captain Wisslo keeps telling me that practicing these forms will help if I face battle or if I get selected to retrieve the Everflame.
The sun rises as Nintos walks in wiping sweat from his face. The aroma of meat and tea fills his nose; “You’re going to need to hurry up and eat. You are due to meet the Captain and talk about joining his ranks. If you can’t be hired on as one of the guards, you’ll need to go out and work the fields. We cannot survive on my pay alone.” looking up to Nintos; “You’re eating enough for two grown men.” Coria, Nintos’ mother, has worked hard to provide since Valtino, Nintos’ father, passed in a hunting accident years ago.
“Don’t worry, mom.” Nintos says in his youthful optimism; “Captain Wisslo doesn’t know it yet. But I’ve been practicing with some of the guard. At first it was ‘to teach me a lesson,’ but now I think I have actually impress a few of them.”
After breakfast, Nintos quickly helps his mom clean up before heading out to find Captain Wisslo.
The morning frost covered the acres of recently harvested fields. The strong smell of freshly laid manure competes with the fading scents of tomatoes, squash and other produce picked from the Temple of Erastil's lands.
Father Prasst watches his student's tireless laboring, while also distributing the composite. The compost is made up of a rich mix of goat and chicken manure, veggie scraps and wheat stalks, corn stocks and student love. The priest looks fondly upon his student's perseverance and patience.
Loges, are you getting ready for the possibility of the Quest?
The young acolyte looks up from his chores. His startling blue eyes bright. His messy mop of dirty blonde hair blowing carelessly in the morning breeze.
Of course, Father! Been practicing my archery, studying my letters, histories, and magical courses. I feel like this is the year!
The priest nods in expectation.
I believe that Erastil will be relying on you in the days to come, my young friend.
Loges smiles at his mentor.
At least it may not involve mucking s%@*!
Drehm and Jokes Iggins sit across from each other, the table between them heaped high with food. The older halfing is spreading jam on his fourth slice of bread when he asks "Got any plans this mornin', my boy?"
Drehm was poking at the crisped remains of the eggs he tried to cook. His scowl falters somewhat but he does not lift his eyes. "No, sir."
Jokes lets out a half amused-half annoyed sigh. He had long given up trying to break the half-orc out of calling him 'sir' or 'Mr. Iggins' but he wasn't about to let the other issue slide so easily.
"An' why not? You 'ave the whole day to yerself. Go out there and meet somebody! Somebody yer own bloody age!" Jokes quickly adds when he saw Drehm about to voice a retort. "Ya can't just be hangin' around with me and the lovely men and women at the Silvers all ya life--we'll all be dead before you see the end of it!"
Jokes laughs loudly at his own dark joke, sending bread crumbs spilling down his chest and on the table. Drehm doesn't join in. He finds it hard to even look at the halfling across from him. He doesn't understand how he could just forget last night happened. How he could pretend like none of it even happened. In a way, that was worse than acknowledging it. If he had just cracked a bad joke about it they could have moved on by now.
"'sides," Jokes continues with a twinkle in his eye. "I've seen the way ye be eyein' some of them from the Vargidan family. Seems a bit unfair one man can produce so many lookers, eh?
"It's not like tha'!" Drehm exclaims, feeling a rush of heat color his cheeks. He nearly rises from his seat, but catches himself, suddenly afraid of accidentally repeating his mistake from last night. However, Mr. Iggins only guffaws again.
"Sure, sure, well whether ya want to get to know them or their magic you won't be gettin' anywhere just starin'."
Drehm slumps in his seat. The prospect of approaching anyone, much less people his age that could control magic terrifies him. But the thought of lingering in the house with these feelings festering scares him more.
"Yeh, alrigh'," Drehm mumbles, barely audible, but Jokes hears it.
The halfing watches the young man with a studying expression for only a moment before his face wrinkles into a familiar smile. "That's my boy"
Durst wakes with a jolt as he hears some in the other room. It was light already, which meant he slept too long. Now he wouldn’t get his chores done or get the Braggar’s on time, or both. Durst starts grinding his teeth and growling. Then, he catches himself. He sits up on the edge of the bed and starts to breath deeply.
Five - The weak sunshine. My brown sheets. The chamber pot. I’ve got… Focus. The dresser. The doorknob.
Four - The cool, solid wood floor. The rough sheets. The cool air. The tension in my shoulders.
Three - Pans banging. Floor boards creaking. Horses neighing.
Two - The aroma of cooked sausage. The scent of burning wood.
One - The staleness of my mouth.
He felt calmer. His teeth had unclenched and he’d stopped growling some time in there. He thought Braggar a fool when the old blacksmith first taught him that exercise, but it actually worked, when he remembered it anyway.
Durst stretches, quickly dresses in his scorched smithing clothes, the ones that always smelled like burnt wool and hot metal, grabs his chamber pot, and walks out of his room.
Durst! Cassie says, his youngest sister at 7 years. She almost jumps up to hug him, until she sees the chamber pot. Oh, um… she says awkwardly. Do you want breakfast?
Of course he wants breakfast. He’s working with Braggar today. He’ll need to eat up to make it through the labor he puts him through. That’s Durst’s mother, Elora. His other two sisters, Amelia and Brea, busily help their mom with breakfast. It was the five of them most days. Durst’s father was often absent hunting or, more recently, raiding with the Foxclaws.
After dumping and returning the chamber pot, Durst sits down at the table for breakfast. It runs like most mornings. Eating, talking about plans for the day, and laughing.
Brea took most of you chores this morning. His mother says at the end of breakfast.
Yeah, and you owe me! Horse riding lessons.
Durst rolls his eyes. Alright, but it may be a couple of days. Braggar’s been running me ragged this week. Behind on another order. Though I’m not sure how making horseshoes helps him remake armor. He sighs. Then with a half hug to his sister and a kiss to his mother, Durst sets out towards the blacksmith forge.
Betzolte was already up with the dawn. The first day of the month, meaning the time for the Quest of the Everflame was almost upon them, and she needed to be prepared. This year was going to be her year, she just new it.
"Morning, Father!" she calls as Braggar Ironhame rises to find breakfast piping hot on the table.
*Yawn* Mornin', lass. So...already up and your chores done?" he asks as he takes a seat and tucks in.
"Aye, I gotta go and do it all again at Holgast's before I'll get a chance to study!"
"Thought you said that ol' duffer slept most of the day! Surely he won't miss you for a bit..."
"YOU called him an 'old duffer,' Father...and that's EXACTLY why I'll need to get those chores done for him quickly. Otherwise he won't let me alone to actually get some reading done."
"You know I could always use your help here-"
"We've been THROUGH this, Father! Torag smiles on us all, but I walk his way in a different path," Betzolte says sharply...perhaps a bit sharper than she meant to. She loved her father, and he loved her, but they were both dwarves and dwarves are nothing if not stubborn when they think they're right.
"Hammer-and-Tongs, lass! We're behind on orders, even WITH that nice Logan boy helpin' out! An extra pair of hands, or even one of them magic hands ye learned how to conjure could make things run smoother!"
Betzolte rolls her eyes.
"And SO could you not flying off the damn bellows handle and making a mess that *I* have to clean up before you can get back to work!"
She's almost out the door, a small sandwich of egg and bacon in one hand to eat on the way, and her spellbook in the other, when Durst arrives at the forge.
"Morning, Durst," she says.
Just before Nintos can leave his house, someone knocks on his door. His mother opens it to find the town Mayor in front of her with a cheerful smile Good morning Coria the man says with a slight bow, I'm happy to see you doing well in this fine morning! Is your son still here? I need to talk to him about something very important he says, winking at the woman.
Opening the door Coria is shocked; "Mayor Uptal! What.. what are you doing here?" she says nervously as she wipes her hands off on an apron "We are just cleaning up from our morning meal, would you like something to eat? I can throw something together." gesturing for him to enter; "Please, come on in. I still have some tea brewed if you'd like." fumbling over her words Why is the mayor here? she jumps slightly as Nintos puts a hand on her shoulder.
"Mayor Uptal, good morning! I overheard you say you had something important to talk about. Is everything okay? Is it something with the captain?" Nintos stands at the ready listening intently to what the Mayor might say next.
I would gladly have some tea, thanks Cordia the Mayor sits at the table, waiting for his beverage.
Nintos, dear boy. No, no issue with Captain Wisslo, on the contrary, he talks very well about your training. The man thanks Cordia for the cup of tea, then continues Actually, he praised you so much that I choose to come here so early to tell you that you have been chosen to retrieve the Everflame this year!
Mayor Uptal gives everyone some time to react to this news.
You will be one of six young men and women to travel to Kassen's Crypt to light the ceremonial lantern with the everlasting flame that lights and guards our founder's tomb. The mayor drinks the hot tea in a single gulp, You will meet the others in the town square, when the bells toll midday on the 4th of Neth.
Mayor Uptal stands up and moves toward the door, Be ready, because it won't be an easy task. You will be provided with some basic equipment, but bring your own weapons and armor. I will see you in three days, but if you have any question you can find me in the Greathall.
Take care of yourself boy. Cordia, thanks for the delicious tea. I take my leave now The man makes a slight bow, then opens the door and exits the house.
As the Mayor is talking, Nintos tries his hardest to keep his composure. Excitement clearly welling up within him This will be it, this is how I can prove myself! he thinks.
Walking with Mayor Uptal to the door; "Thank you Mayor! I will see you on the 4th. I will not let you or Captain Wisslo down."
As soon as the Mayor is out and the door is shut, Nintos lets out a shout of excitement as he gives his mom a hug. Lifting her off of her feet and they dance around. Laughing; "Okay, okay Nintos. Please put me down." Coria says. "Looks like you have a busy few days. But I think you need to let Captain Wisslo know first. Why don't you run off and I will clean up breakfast."
"Thank you! I'll be back as soon as I can. I am going to need more training before I get to meet the others... the others? Who else could it be?" he begins rolling through the names of his friends and other young people from Kassen. Gathering up his equipment, Nintos heads out to go and share the big news with Captain Wisslo.
Krokod drew his nose back as his other older sibling (Well, half sibling as was often the case) did a boarding outhouse reach. Nothing like like a hairy armpit in your face.
"Thank you, Erdan, wear a shirt with sleeves, please." Krokod suggeted. He was rewarded with a loud laugh and a THUMP on his back that nearly rocked him.
Erdan was like a big friendly dog sometimes.. one that wasn't properly house trained.
His meal done, Krokod got to washing dishes. He remembered suggesting this was 'womens' work' once, hoping it would get him out of it. He didn't believe it, but it was worth a shot. It did not go well. Krokod was persona non grata even among the female relations that LIKED him for at least 3 days and so burdened with chores he thought he'd collapse. Okay sure, he was perhaps exaggerating the events of his memory but it FELT like it.
He had apologized, of course, and hey, half of the apology was sincere even! So now he was cleaning without complaint, or at least without foolish chauvinist content. Besides, that was when he was still young. He was sixteen now.. a MAN... and girls his age who were not related to him were getting interesting. Quite a few liked him.
But to go flirt with them he'd have to escape here. To Escape here, he'd have to finish up cleaning. The water started to get coldd. He sighed, then a thought occurred to him.
A smile crosses his features and he drew on the power of his blood and gestured over the water.
The water reheated, it became down right hot and he drew his hands back with delight. It worked. He'd almost burned himself but that's not what was important! "No one touch the water, I magicked it hot again so give it a moment..."
"That could be useful" His mother observed.
Krokod nodded though he didn't want to be useful so much as damned amazing, thank you.
Olga looked over from her own chores of putting the dried stuff away, "Maybe Krokod should be given the dish washing ALL the time now that he is getting some control?"
Hate you SO much Krokod thought sourly and focused, sending a ray of frost into the water to cool it again. It worked. It surprised him when he first did that, but he had decided to try to take the heat and fire OUT of a spell and see what happened and viola, a ray of frost. Not a rare cantrip, but he went about it his own way. Some of the elders said that was good that he had options. They spoke of things immune to fire. Which he found a bit silly. How likely was he to run into things immune to fire? not likely he'd ever run into anything like that.
"Careful!" His mother said alarmed "You could break the dishes playing back and forth like that"
"I'm just trying to speed things up" He answered, "I've been here FOREVER."
"Go go.." She banished him with a maternal wave.
Which , of course, is what he hoped for.
Krokod stepped out of the door and took in a breath like a prisoner taking in his first wind of freedom after weeks, nay, months imprisoned!
Never let facts get in the way of good teenage drama.
But by the gods, it was nice to be free of family even just for a bit.
On his way to Braggar's Shop Durst is stopped by the town Mayor Durst, my boy! I was just going to pass by your house to meet you and your family! he firmly shakes the boy's hand Are you on your way to Braggar's Shop? Good! Do you mind if I accompany you? I have things to do there too, and your presence would be much appreciated. The man keeps smiling genuinely at the young man, now walking beside him toward the blacksmith.
Durst was headed along his usual route to Braggar’s shop when the mayor walks up to him. He had never really spoken to the mayor, but he knows who he is. The entire town does. Mayor Uptal, what a surprise! He says as he shakes the mayor’s hand, and an expression of annoyance briefly crosses Durst’s face before turning into a grin.
He walked this way to avoid people, and here was the bloody mayor! Now, Braggar had said that avoiding people wasn’t a long-term solution to his anger, and Durst was starting to understand why. People would seek you out wherever you were.
Hoping to keep his anger in check, he continues walking and replies, I am headed to Braggar’s. Always work to do. Are you ordering something from him? And did you say you were on your way to meet my family? Why?
Oh dear boy, one question at a time! says the Mayor patting Durst's shoulder, No, I don't actually need anything forged from Braggar at this time. Yes, I was looking to meet your family, more specifically you, Durst, but all will be clear to you when we'll met with Braggar's daughter, Betzolte. Mayor Uptal keeps walking aside the young man, humming happily in the meantime.
Betzolte looks up as she walks out greeting Durst out of habit and starts when she realizes Durst wasn't arriving on his own.
"Oh! Mr. Mayor! Good morning to ye..."
She turns back into the house.
"FATHER! MAYOR UPTAL'S HERE!"
Braggar hustles towards the door to join his daughter.
"Mornin' Mayor Uptal! What brings ye to the forge this day? Oh, an' good morning to ye too, lad!" he says hurriedly, clearly flustered his breakfast was interrupted.
Durst waves to Betzolte as he and the mayor approach. It was good to see a friendly face after an awkward walk with the mayor.
Mornin’, Braggar! I’ll get started at the forge soon. The mayor here has something to talk with us about, though he wouldn’t tell me a think on the way here.
Don't worry my boy, I will tell you everything right away, says the Mayor smilingly, But first let's get inside, shall we?
Once inside Mayor Uptal starts speaking again, Braggar, my good smith, is good to see you well, and you too Beltzolte, I hope your training with Holgast is going well. But let's get to the matter I'm here to reveal.
Durst, Beltzolte, I'm here to announce you that you have been chosen to retrieve the Everflame from Kassen's tomb this year!
The Mayor pauses to give everyone the chance to react to the news, and after some moments he continues his speech You will meet the other four chosen in the town square at midday, on the 4th of Neth, this Oathday. Bring nothing more than your weapons and armor, the town will provide with some adventuring equipment for you.
That said, I have to go now, I need to tell the good news to your future companions! he shakes Braggar's hand, then puts his hands on Durst's and Beltzolte's shoulders Be proud you two, this is a great honor we have chosen to bestow upon you. Make our town proud!
The mayor bids his farewell and exits through the door.
As the sun continues to shine down on then this frosty morning, Loges and Father Prasst continue to work the Temple's fields. The cool breeze stirs the standing hairs on the young cleric's arms as he lays the manure down. Smiling and swelling with pride at the bounty Erastil provided this harvest for town, Loges thanks the god by doing his works.
Father Prasst looks fondly at his student. Turning of age this next month, Loges has been fostered at the Temple when Father Prasst took over from the previous Priest. Being only a few years the acolyte's senior, theirs was more an older brother relationship than father/son.
Which is suddenly quite evident by the mysterious sound of flying poop coming his way!
Loges, I am almost positive that the manure goes on the ground and not in the air!
The youth smiles at his mentor. His dirty blonde hair flying in every direction, as the wind reintroduces itself.
Oops! Must of gotten away from me...
They both laugh and enjoy the work....
As Krokod gets his fresh air after what seemed months of imprisonment he sees the silhouette of the town's Mayor approaching his house. The man waves at the youngling as he comes closer, Good morning young Krokod, how are you doing today? Mayor Uptal asks extending his hand in greeting, Are your parents home? I would like to chat with them. And you, of course the man eversimiling face is waiting for Krokod's answer.
** spoiler omitted **
As Krokod gets his fresh air after what seemed months of imprisonment he sees the silhouette of the town's Mayor approaching his house. The man waves at the youngling as he comes closer, Good morning young Krokod, how are you doing today? Mayor Uptal asks extending his hand in greeting, Are your parents home? I would like to chat with them. And you, of course the man eversimiling face is waiting for Krokod's answer.
Krokod's eyes light up to see the Mayor. Not that he was particularly fond of the fellow but he always seemed nice enough.. for an elder, and it was interaction with non family.
"Mayor Uptal," He takes the man's hand in what he hopes is a manly but not so macho as to seem insecure grip and shakes it, "Yes, well, father was seen earlier today but he can be hard to keep track of. He should be inside. If he's not, mother surely is." Indeed, his mother is easy to note. Not many keleshites in this part of the world.
Of course, this means his escape is somewhat reversed. He'll have to go back to family if he has this talk. Still, curiosity is stronger than escape, and the Mayor isn't acting worried he'll catch fire so that's better than some folks in the village. "here, let me escort you in to find them."
And he guides the mayor to their estate entry, opens the door to call out "MOTHER? It's Krokod! The Mayor is here, he hopes to talk to you and father!" a beat "With me." Realization this might not be a GOOD Call sinks in "And if it's about something bad I didn't do it."
There, that base is covered.
After the mayor leaves, Durst asks Betzolte to stay for a moment to discuss the news.
Why would the mayor want me to go retrieve the Everflame? You I can see, Betzolte, but I’m likely to bring the whole crypt down. Not that I’m disappointed, just surprised! Then after a moment of thinking, he adds, He said that there are four others. I wonder who.
Betzolte stands agape at the news and then makes an excited squeal.
"YES! YesyesyesyesYES! I've waited YEARS to be chosen for this duty!"
She bounces up and down with delight, not unlike a ball. Braggar rolls his eyes a bit.
"Now you've done it, Uptal...she'll be insufferable until the actual ceremony now."
"He doesn't get it, Mr. Mayor. I've watched the human lads and lasses of this town get picked for this for DECADES now! And it's only now that I'm finally considered old enough to participate! Honor our history and our community! Oh, wait until Holgast hears!"
Once the Mayor departs, and Durst asks his question, Betzolte gives him a smirk.
"The retrieval of the Everflame is a way for Kassen's people to remember their bonds to each other, how it all started and how it'll continue on as each new generation finds the flame. You're part of Kassen's people too, so it's only fair. I've been wanting to do this for years, to show I'm as much a child of Kassen as all you humans. Father sometimes acts like he's apart from the rest of the community because of our dwarfishness."
"I'm RIGHT HERE, y'know, Lass!" Braggar barks. "Get on off to yer master an' do your wizardin'. Logan, you get them bellows going. I want that forge ROARIN'!"
With that, Betzolte tromps off, heading to the edge of town where Holgast's tower stands.
Well, I’m glad someone is excited, Durst says after Betzolte leaves. Well, I bet it doesn’t excuse me from work today. He looks towards Braggar as if hopeful, but clearly sees he’s not getting off today. Okay. What am I working on today?
Durst heads to get the forge going, setting up tools, and getting other gear ready. He does it by habit, thinking instead of the news. He couldn’t believe it! Retrieving the Everflame. Sure, as a kid I would daydream about it, but what kid in Kassen doesn’t? After the past couple of years, I never imagined I get to go. Seems to good to be true. The forge flares as Durst carelessly tends it. Erastil’s bow! he yells as jumps back. Then, he angrily punches a post for being so absentminded. Yeah. I’m going to do real well on this quest, he thinks with a sigh.
"And if it's about something bad I didn't do it."
Oh, nothing bad young Krokod, don't worry. It has been a while since your last "incident", is it not? The Mayor asks curiously at the boy, his benevolent smile always present on his round face.
I'm glad that you're making progress in handling your gift, Krokod. Magic means great powers, an with great powers come great responsibilities, my uncle used to say, Pharasma bless his soul. The man sighs, looking melancholily at the ground, then after a moment he shows his ample smile to Krokord again Anyway, you have a great power in you, and you can use it for anything you want. Kassen would be honored to count you as one of its heroes in the future, an example of devotion and loyalty for the future generations.
"No magical incidents" Krokod assures. Deciding that non magical incidents, such as getting friendly with more than one village girl, or 'borrowing' a pie left outside to cool didn't count.
I'm glad that you're making progress in handling your gift, Krokod. Magic means great powers, an with great powers come great responsibilities, my uncle used to say, Pharasma bless his soul. The man sighs, looking melancholily at the ground, then after a moment he shows his ample smile to Krokord again Anyway, you have a great power in you, and you can use it for anything you want. Kassen would be honored to count you as one of its heroes in the future, an example of devotion and loyalty for the future generations.
He sounds a bit like my older family members He realizes at the talk of using magic responsibly but the comment he could use it for anything he wants, that sinks in I like the idea of being a hero. I ... don't want to use it to be a jerk. I'm better than that. At least, I'd like to be better.
Finally Krokod says "I'd like a chance to prove myself, Mayor. I know my family is weird, but none of us are monsters. How can I help you?"
Oh well, why don't you go find your parents? I want them to be present to hear about the good news I'm bringing the Mayor winks at Krokod in a friendly way, I'll wait here, in the entrance, unless you want to show me another room where we can all talk for a bit.
"The parlor is this way" He offers. The Parlor... built FOR visitors, is pretty close to the front door. It's small, but elegant, with a few chairs and a tiny table for drinks to be set on. It keeps folks from going deeper in without being rude. He moves in "I'll go get mother and father."
And he races off while the Mayor takes a seat. He has no idea what this good news is, but well, he's in curiosity's grip now.
WHen he sees his mother, he says "Mother? The Mayor's here to see you and father ... and me. Some good news?"
Other family members get curious.
"Oh, Krokod, is this about that pie?" His mother sighs.
"What pie?" He lies, then says "No, it's not. Is..father available?" Father is.. odd, goes where he likes, hard to track.
"I believe so.... go on back to the parlor" She prepares a tray of drinks "Bring this to the mayor while you wait. Won't be long."
He takes it, and races back, nearly tripping over the invisible dog "Darn it, Mutt!" but he gets back to the parlor, and says to the Mayor "They'll be here shortly. Care for coffee or tea?"
If I don't learn what's going on soon I'm going to DIE
Betzolte trundles off to Holgast's tower and pounds on the door, prompting a snore from inside to cut off abruptly.
"I've already done my shopping this week, I don't need anything you're selling!"
"Master, it's ME!"
"Oh...Betzolte...Good morning to you...Are you here on time? Usually you're early."
"I got stopped by Mayor Uptal before I was out the door. I've been selected to help retrieve the Everflame this year!"
There's a pause from inside. Betzolte opens the door and heads inside. Holgast stands in front of his chair, clearly having just stood up from it. He strokes his long, white beard; a beard even a dwarf might envy.
"Congratulations to you, I suppose! Near as I can figure the ceremony's in four days now...I do NOT want you slacking off in the interim!"
Betzolte raises an eyebrow.
"Have I ever?"
"Well, you never know! Some of my older apprentices, they get selected for the Everflame and suddenly they think they're too good for old Master Holgast and his lessons! Like they can take on the whole of Golarion with a few cantrips!"
Betzolte frowns and flushes crimson a bit, embarrassed that a thought like that could have crossed her mind, before spinning on her heel to avoid Holgast seeing.
"You can start by sweeping out the tower! After that, you can wash out those gourds...dust off those masks..."
Holgast trails off as Betzolte moves to get the broom. He'd fall back asleep eventually and he rarely even noticed when these tasks were completed anyway. While she starts sweeping, she thinks about the adventure awaiting her in just a few more days!
Drehm stares at the wavy reflection of his own face. He traces a clawed finger over several of the tattoo lines, and several more over the rough scabs. If it wasn't for those dishes being dropped the other day he'd have the spare coin by now to cover more of his face. Drehm grimaces in annoyance, but quickly looks away when he sees the exposed tusks reflected in the water.
"Oi, do all ye halfies take this long to clean dishes?" Mr. Iggins' voice calls from the adjoining living room. He sits back in his rocking chair and blows a puff of smoke from his pipe out a nearby open window. When Drehm looks back to give him a glare, Jokes Iggins is already waiting to return a smile. "You keep dilly-dallying and everyone's gonna find somethin' better ta do, my boy."
Drehm grunts in annoyance, but he takes his time coming up with a retort. His gaze lingers back to the bucket of water. "Wha'...What do I even say, Mr. Iggins? I don't even know tha'."
Jokes chews on his pipe thoughtfully for a moment. "You wanna get in folks' good graces, start by findin' one who needs somethin'."
Drehm gives Jokes an exasperated look. "Wha' could a family o' sorcerers need from someone lie me?"
Jokes raises a furry, white brow, the smile growing from behind his pipe. "Why now, I don' remember sayin' a lip about them Vargidans now did I?" The halfling laughs heartily as Drehm flushes red, but quickly recovers so he could continue. "You wantin' ta not embarrass yourself, ya? Start small. You helped ol' Father Prasst at the Temple the other week, didn' ya? Go again, but this time don' just be keeping' yer head down and sayin' nothin'. Talk to 'im. Talk to his boys. Ya gonna mess up, ya gonna make a fool of yerself, so might as well do it before a man of Erastil whose job it is not to judge!"
Drehm wanted to interrupted Mr. Iggins a few times during his spiel. For one, the Temple and it's occupants made him uncomfortable. Religion as a whole was something beyond his grasp. And perhaps even worse the last time he had 'helped' it was mucking s#*& for hours for less coin than he made an hour working at the Seven Silvers. But, in a way, Mr. Iggins had a point. Deep down, he didn't mind if the people at the Temple thought less of him and if he made too big of a fool of himself all he had to do was never go back again. Simple. Would make for a great excuse, actually.
"Yeh, alrigh',", Drehm says, sounding more upbeat than he intended. His tone was so light that Jokes stops rocking and takes the pipe out of his mouth to regard the half-orc.
"That's my boy!" he exclaims with a laugh. He raises the pipe in the air. "That's my boy! Now get out there before all the good s$++ gets shoveled!"
Oh thank you, dear Krokod, but I'll pass this time. I know how good are your mother's beverages, but I had tea not so long ago, and I don't want to upset my sleep schedule much. You see, if I drink more than one coffee or tea cup per day, my spirit becomes so awakened that I have much troubles keeping at bay at night, and so I can't sleep for the love of Desna! The Mayor lets out a hearty laugh, patting gently the boy on his shoulder I hope your parents won't take long though, I have still a couple of houses to visit this morning, and I wanted to visit them before midday he sits on one of the chairs and waits, adjusting his clothes as if they weren't in perfect order.
Oh thank you, dear Krokod, but I'll pass this time. I know how good are your mother's beverages, but I had tea not so long ago, and I don't want to upset my sleep schedule much. You see, if I drink more than one coffee or tea cup per day, my spirit becomes so awakened that I have much troubles keeping at bay at night, and so I can't sleep for the love of Desna! The Mayor lets out a hearty laugh, patting gently the boy on his shoulder I hope your parents won't take long though, I have still a couple of houses to visit this morning, and I wanted to visit them before midday he sits on one of the chairs and waits, adjusting his clothes as if they weren't in perfect order.
Krokod grins but doesn't understand. He's a teenage boy. There's such a thing as too much spirit? Grown people are odd "I understand, mayor" He lies a bit there just to be accommodating, "I can get water if you-" but then he is interrupted.
"We are here, Mayor" and the voice might cause Uptal to jump. Maltus Vargidan and his wife are by his side seemingly appearing out of nowhere.
Krokod doesn't seem fazed. He tripped over an invisible dog earlier. His father vanishing around corners or seemingly just being there is pretty par for the course. He does smile to see them here though. He's eager to learn what's this about.
"What can we do for you, Mayor?" Krokod's mother says, "And if you don't like tea of coffee we can get you water, or milk. We so seldom get guests."
Maltus takes a seat opposite the mayor and stares at the mayor's left ear for a moment, then looks to the man's eyes, "Yes. What brings you? Is it time?"
Time for WHAT? Krokod wonders
Ah, illustrious Lord Vargidan, the mayor bows in front of Maltus and Krokod's mother, it is a real pleasure to see you and your beautiful wife in this fine day!
He recompose himself, then answers Maltus' question Yes, Lord Vargidan, it is finally time: we have decided that Krokod is finally ready to be part of this year's group that will bring back the Everflame from Kassen's Tomb!
Mayor Uptal gives a bit for the three to react at the news, then he says to Krokod You will meet your companions on the fourth day of Neth, three days from now, in the town square when the bells toll midday. Be ready, for a great adventure will await you.
The man then bows another time, Lady Vargidan, I am sorry for having to refuse your offer of beverages, but I have to go now, I still have to visit more citizen this morning. I salute you, Vargidan family, and wish you a very great day. He bows, then sees himself out of the mansion.
Ah, illustrious Lord Vargidan, the mayor bows in front of Maltus and Krokod's mother, it is a real pleasure to see you and your beautiful wife in this fine day!
He recompose himself, then answers Maltus' question Yes, Lord Vargidan, it is finally time: we have decided that Krokod is finally ready to be part of this year's group that will bring back the Everflame from Kassen's Tomb!
Krokod braces himself, his folks might just nix this whole thing, well HIS part in it in a desire to protect him or hide his powers full extent or...
Zohreh, Krokod's mother, seems flattered by the courtesy, and a smile that goes all the way to her lovely eyes fills her face at the news offered, "This is a great honor you bestow on our son. Thank you, Mayor."
Lord Maltus nods as if not so surprised, "Yes, there is symmetry in this, fire to fire. He as prepared as he is likely to be. I approve."
Krokod starts to launch into the reasons they shouldn't say no, "Mother, Father, I'm old enough to do this. Let me prove myself to the town, to myself.. I can do-" Then the teen stops and thinks back on what they said. It wasn't what he expected, "What was that again?"
"Your father," Zohreh's smile now includes a look of amusement as well as pride, "Said he approves. And, of course, so do I. Make us proud, my son."
Krokod wasn't ready for that , and for once he shuts up and nods. I'm not being treated as a joke OR a threat! Not by family or the townsfolk? I...wow!
Mayor Uptal gives a bit for the three to react at the news, then he says to Krokod You will meet your companions on the fourth day of Neth, three days from now, in the town square when the bells toll midday. Be ready, for a great adventure will await you.
"I am SO there!" He gushes, not even thinking to ask who his companions will be.
His father raises a brow at him. His mother 'ahems'.
Krokod coughs into his hand then says more politely, "Thank you, Mayor. I look forward to this and accept the duty with gratitude."
The man then bows another time, Lady Vargidan, I am sorry for having to refuse your offer of beverages, but I have to go now, I still have to visit more citizen this morning. I salute you, Vargidan family, and wish you a very great day. He bows, then sees himself out of the mansion.
The Vardigans rise. Zohreh giving a bit of a curtsy in return, and Maltus nodding.
"Another time, perhaps" Krokod's mother says, "And yes, thank you for coming by to tell us the good news."
"May the forces of evil become confused on the way to your house," Maltus nods in what is probably meant as a well wish.
And then, when the Mayor leaves, it's just them!
"So proud of you, Krokod, but I wonder who the other companions will be?" Zohreh ponders aloud.
"Ack! I forgot to ask" Krokod says then he remembers he was going out anyway, "Can I go out to town now and ask about?"
"Go, my son," Maltus nods, "You still have time to get gear and such, so go and ..." a resigned shrug " be peopley."
Krokod's father was never very social himself and will likely want a nap after letting the mayor in the house. Non family can be exhausting to the patriarch.
"Thank you!" Krokod hugs both his parents, and then heads out again, door closing behind him.
The barrier does nothing to block the "WOOOOO!" sound Krokod gives as he cheers this news outside in the open air.
Just before Drahm gets the chance to get out of the Seven Silvers Inn, a well dressed man enters from the front doors. Good morning Trelvar his voice says heartily, getting ready for another day of work? Oh, and good morning to you Asina, always a pleasure to see you.
He accosts the bar and asks Mr. Silvers I am looking for one of your waiter, the young Drehm, do you know perhaps where I can find him?
The two Silvers give the Mayor a polite smile, but when he says the name "Drehm" the father and daughter exchange a concerned look.
"Morning, Mr. Mayor. Happy to fetch the boy for you but might I ask what this is about? He hasn't made a mess of something outside the tavern has he?"
Whatever the Mayor's response, Trelvar Silver's goes into the upstairs room that Jokes and Drehm share and calls for the young half-orc to come meet with the Mayor downstairs.
Drehm is startled by the sudden summons and he and Mr. Iggins share their own look of worry. "Whatever it is I'll be right there with you." Jokes gently pats the back of Drehm's arm, helping to guide the stunned half-orc out the room and down the stairs.
All the while, Drehm can barely hear anything beyond the rush of blood and the pump of his own heart in his ears. As the rounds the stairs and sees the Mayor himself at the bar, he is very near fainting. What had he done? What was going to happen to him? Was he going to jail? Was he going to be kicked out of town?
With all these thoughts running through his head, Drehm can't even form the words to greet the Mayor and simply stands there, painfully awaiting his fate.
Good morning Drehm, I see you are well says the mayor to the young half-orc, the Silvers here were worried I came her because you may have made some trouble in town, did you young man?
Mayor Uptal gives a stern look at Drehm, but then burst into an hearty laugh Ha ha ha, don't worry my boy, I'm not here to punish anyone! In fact, I'm here to announce that you've been chosen as one of the six young men and women who will bring back the Everflame to Kassen! Aren't you excited?
As usual the mayro gives everyone some time to react to the news, meanwhile he sits on a stool by the bar.
The two Silvers appear stunned, unable to react to the Mayor's news. Drehm is much the same, his mouth hanging open and tusks protruding much further than he would normally allow them. He is rocked out of his stupor when a small but firm hand slaps him on the small of his back.
"Ya hear that, my boy?!" Jokes Iggins says with a hearty laugh. "It's time! It's finally time! An' you thought it'd never come! Hah!"
Drehm closes his mouth, looks to Mr. Iggins and the Mayor, but he is still unable to form words. Of course he thought it wouldnt come. The right to bring back the flame was for citizens of the town. And he wasn't that. At least, he never felt that way. He assumed everyone felt that way. That Mr. Iggins only ever humored him. That the way people avoided him, avoided looking at him, was natural.
"Ya..." Drehm starts to say, but has to clear his throat. Even trying to say the words tightens the muscles and makes his eyes sting. "Ya sure ya 'avent made a mistake, Mr. Mayor, sir?"
"What are ye, daft?" Mr. Iggins declares before the Mayor can answer. "O'course he hasn't made a mistake. Tell 'em, Mayor!"
And then everyone turns to the Mayor, watching and waiting with baited breath.
No mistakes, none at all says the mayor, the council thought you should have a chance to prove yourself. We know your life hasn't really been a walk through a flowery field, so we thought you would like to get the chance to show the whole town you're more than meets the eyes.
Mayor Uptal pauses for a moment, Asina, may I have a cup of milk? Thank you dear. The man stands up and gets closer to Drehm, don't think we chose you just because you have been less fortunate than others though, we made this choice because we see potential in you, and we are entrusting the town's future in your hands. This is a serious task, understood? He then sits back at the bar, drinking the fresh cup of milk Asina brought him.
Well, I have to go now, people to see, places to visits. Everyone, it has been very good to see you all doing well. Drehm, be ready, three days from today, on midday, at the town square. He looks the half-orc dead in the eyes, don't disappoint us. He then takes his leave.
It all happens in a whirl of color and sounds. Drehm is aware that there are more people than just him and Mayor Uptal in the tavern, but when the Mayor speaks everything else just becomes a blur. Was he even still awake? Drehm subtly pinches the inside of his forearm while the Mayor speaks to him, careful not to draw blood but the pain is evident--is real.
It's real. It's true.
Upon the Mayor's final words, Drehm straightens his back and bows his head like he's seen the guards do to their superiors. "Yessir, Mr. Mayor, sir!" He still feels ridiculous, out of place, but the swelling of pride in his chest is real. The nerves, the anticipation. It's all real.
When the Major leaves Asina and Trelvar Silver offer their support and well wishes, though Drehm can tell they still can't believe it themselves. Mr. Iggins can't stop smiling though.
"How's about a round for your best workers, aye Silvers?" the halfling says as he clambers onto the stool the Mayor once sat at. "Maybe some of that 'special' milk ya got in the back."
Mr. Silvers gives Jokes a dour look. "You're about to be working, Iggins. And I'm sure the boy has better things to do on his day off than drink here."
"Oh, aye, that he does," Jokes Iggins agrees, tossing a wink Drehm's way.
The half-orc stiffens, now remembering the talk they had just minutes ago. Maybe it would be worth seeing who else would be a part of this? His plan didnt have to change much. He could try finding work at the temple, only now he actually had a topic to start a real conversation with.
With a farewell more optimistic than any of the three in the tavern have heard from Drehm before, the young 'citizen of Kassen' heads out with a new sense of purpose to drive him.
It's late in the morning now, and Mayor Uptal is walking toward the town's temple of Erastil. When he knocks on its wooden doors he is welcomed by a young acolyte. The man asks to see Father Prasst and Loges, so the acolyte asks him to wait while he goes looking for them.
The strong smell of freshly laid manure surrounds the Temple of Erastil. The strong impression of community invigorates those bustling about the grounds. The strong loud voices of this community echoes throughout the halls, as the young acolyte bows to the mayor, indicates for him to follow her, and leads him to the fields.
Father Prasst and Loges are seen freshing up a bit by the main well. Seeing the mayor approaching, both clerics finish washing up, towel their arms and hands, and greet him.
Mayor Uptal! Top of the morning to ya. We were just about to head inside for prayer and lunch. Care you to join us? You know Priest Loges? He has been newly raised this last year.
Loges smiles at the mayor. His blue eyes shining in the late morning sun.
Good day, Mayor Uptal. Pleasant blessing of Erastil to you this beautiful morning.
